it's your silence
that's left me here
with this fur coat of troubles,
my only protection from
the cold truth of myself.
the buffer between
my bellicose and lazy
natures
and my braided beard
shelters my sighs
like my paws protect
my papercut fingers
and frostbitten feet.
My head is bald,
it's my heat's only escape.
Any suggestions?
Comments
1 - 9 of 9
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short but with great impact.
i can feel the freezing cold of the silence you write about with such great imagery. i can feel how hard it must be to endure such a silence...because, i can't bear silences myself, especially when it comes after a bitter fight or an emotional argument...
thank you for sharing this. it is a wonderful read that jolted me to the core.
leigh
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Thanks leigh heart!
It's funny, I had written the first line a long long time ago, and when I found it, it just... perfectly fit into my feelings at that moment, and so the poem was written. Luckily, I'm not in that place anymore.
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oh boy...
here you go again....
love everything about this.....
lynne -
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Thank you again Lynne.
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It is a very well written piece..The short lines brang forth a smooth rhythm
In parts you have a capital letter after a fullstop etc then missed one on the buffer between line..just wanted to note
I don't think any other suggestion could be made to this, its tightly written with appropriate and creative language..The tone definetly comes thorugh nicely.
It was so very easy to enjoy this..I love most the ease in enjoying poem...I never want to struggle to enjoy it...So well done....
Thank you for sharing this poetic write
Cindy
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Haha, I'm not even sure why that first period is there - I think it was supposed to be a comma. I handwrite all of my poetry, so sometimes things get lost in the translation I guess. Thanks for pointing it out, I'll go in and fix it.
Thanks for the comment - I'm glad that you liked it!
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Really Good
I really do like it.is is one of this poems that deals with no so rare subject but use a unique way to express not showing intention to sound rare I think it is really a good one because you we re inspired when you write it.
Maybe its codified style is what I like the most.Really good.giv'it a ten.
. Rewarded 6
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It's those sudden and nearly misplaced last two lines, SS, that jolted me just right, that came out of the troubled fur of this poem - I like that feeling when following a poem's images, being hit like that at the end. In them, the poet's inner-frictioned heat escapes, barely, not through his heart or through his open complaint to the perpretrator, but through his head - the sign of a worrier? I know this well.
Someone's cold shoulder is like an icepick into that divide between the poet's self-truth and his fussied-up outward face, braided for effect. Is that it? don't know, but I think so. And the expression hits me hard, how frigid the silence of someone can be, how it leaves one cut and frostburned in fret.
Good write, SS; small and clean as a papercut.
Later...
Lad. Rewarded 8
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Jolting... I guess that's probably what I was going for. You know how much of a worrier I can be, and jolting is a part of that too - multiple thoughts that just surface and burst out.
Sometimes silence isn't cold - it can even be comfortable. When you've reached a point with someone that you can sit in mutual, comfortable silence and not fill the space (I'd like to say void, but silence is a tangible object) with trivial phrases, that's a good place to be.
But silence is like a blanket too, the kind that keeps all the heat in and doesn't let anything out. A strangling piece of cloth.
And silence can be freezing cold. For myself, and you have some idea of this, I tend to compartmentalize pieces of myself - which is what I tried to reflect. Have you ever turned on the shower and just walked in? Somethings it's really cold, but you can't feel it. And sometimes it's scalding hot, but so much that it feels cold.
I think that silence can kill nerves like that too.
I try and keep my poems clean and, well... maybe a little cold. Maybe the part of my brain that generates poetic thought is a tiny freezer, I don't know. I have a lot of papercuts on my fingers lately, but I don't know where they've all come from.
This has been a very contemplative, hard week. I'll let you know all about it. Talk to you soon!
And thanks Lad.
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